The Day the Statue of Neptinu Ended Up in a Tourist’s Airbnb

Discovering Destiny Down Dingli Cliffs

One windy afternoon in September, Spiro, a local fisherman from Marsaxlokk, was sprawled on his colorful luzzu, tugging at his fishing net while mumbling Maltese expressions of frustration. “Mela, these fish today! Uwejja, they’re as elusive as shade at midday!” In the midst of his grumblings, he spotted a small boat nearing, full of sun-kissed foreigners with cameras larger than their heads.

Among them was a certain Bob, who hailed from a distant land known for its skyscrapers and fast-food chains. Bob was in Malta, equipped with a tourist guidebook so old it still showed the Azure Window standing proudly, instead of resting in pieces under the Gozitan sea. Little did he know that his holiday would take a turn worthy of local folklore.

Unintentional Souvenir Shopping in Valletta

The group made their way to Valletta, admiring the grandeur of the Barrakka Gardens and the history seeping out of every limestone brick. As they roamed, Bob’s appetite for souvenirs grew. He wanted something “authentic… unique… Maltese!” His eyes settled on the majestic statue of Neptinu (Neptune) commanding the waters from its fountain throne. “How much for that one?” he joked to his guide.

What Bob didn’t know was that the tour guide, one Zaren the prankster, took his jest quite seriously. Zaren, whose antics were the stuff of local legend, had a brainwave. “You like-a the Neptinu, ha? Meet me tonight. Bring many euros!” he whispered with a mischievous glint in his eye. Bob, thinking it was all part of a theatrical tourist trap, chuckled and nodded, oblivious to the impending comedic chaos.

The Midnight Heist: A Twist of Lime…Stone

“For your eyes only, my friend. The Sea God comes to you!”

As the Maltese night blanketed the city, Zaren, along with his cousin Manwel the reluctant handyman, started what was to be the quietest, most ridiculous heist in Maltese history. Armed with nothing but a truck, chisels, and an overconfidence that could sink the Knights’ galleons, they approached the fountain.

“Uwejja, Manwel, be careful with my new mate Neptinu!” whispered Zaren, as they carved away. Hours later, the statue was gone, leaving behind only chisel dust and an empty sea shell.

When a God Takes a Gap Year

Bob, expecting a funny certificate or a miniature replica, was shocked when he opened his Airbnb’s door to find the full-sized statue grinning at him with stone-cold poise. “Ħaqq, this ain’t no keychain!” he exclaimed. It was then that it struck him; he was an accidental Godnapper!

In a frenzy, Bob contacted the local authorities, trying his best to explain the situation between stutters and mimed gestures. The local policeman, still snickering at the story, mused, “Eeeh, this is better than the time the Mosta dome got graffiti-tagged with a giant pastizz! Kollox issa, everything!”

An Offer Malta Couldn’t Refuse

News of the overnight disappearance of Neptinu surged through the Maltese archipelago faster than a festa’s fireworks. Rumors swirled like the sirocco winds until Bob made his offer; return Neptinu for free lessons in making ħobż biż-żejt for an entire year.

The locals, intrigued and amused, gladly accepted the trade. Soon, Bob became an honorary citizen, known as the foreigner who heisted a god and paid through the sandwich. For Zaren and Manwel, their escapade became the warning tale every guide chuckled about, “That’s tourists for you. Sometimes they take more than just photos!”

Tales by the Ħobża: A Reflection

As Bob spread another slice of bread with kunserva and a drizzle of olive oil, he laughed. “Who knew a holiday could turn into divine kidnapping?” But true to Maltese hospitality, they all shared a laugh – and a hearty meal. After all, isn’t life on the island filled with a pinch of absurdity, a splash of the Mediterranean, and a whole lotta love?

And if you find yourself wandering by the Neptinu fountain in Valletta, you might just hear the echo of that fateful night; a reminder that sometimes, the best souvenirs are the stories we take back home. Mela folks, whether you’re a local or just visiting, keep a close eye on your belongings… you never know when you might end up with more than you bargained for!